


Scrunchies

by BruiseViolet22



Category: Heathers (1988), Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: Chandlermara, F/F, I finally wrote a non-smutty chandlermara fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2020-08-23 11:33:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20242168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BruiseViolet22/pseuds/BruiseViolet22
Summary: Heather Chandler keeps losing her scrunchies. Heather McNamara keeps finding them.





	Scrunchies

It was the summer of 1983. Heather McNamara was sitting on a park bench and licking an ice-cream. Today in particular the weather was so warm that the park had been packed full of neighborhood children playing with the playground equipment and families having picnics, wanting to make the most of the heat. Heather McNamara had went alone, however. Her dad was at work and her mom was at home cooking dinner, so Heather didn't have anyone to go with.

It was getting late, and Sherwood Park was beginning to empty as people began to make their way home. Eventually, the park was completely deserted except for Heather McNamara and a lone girl on a swing across the playground.

Heather couldn't see her very well from where she was sitting, but the girl looked to be around her age. She had dark blonde hair that looked almost gold in the sunlight and was wearing a light pink summer dress. The skirt of her dress fluttered slightly as the swing moved. The image of the girl swinging looked just like an old painting Heather had once seen.

Heather ate her ice-cream and watched her for a while, before deciding _ she _ wanted to go on the swings too. She stood up and walked across the park, in the direction of the swings. There were two empty swings, one on either side of the blonde girl Heather had been look at.

The girl scraped her shoes on the ground, stopped the swing, and hopped off it, before Heather was even halfway near the swingset. The sun had almost set, and Heather guessed she must have wanted to get home before it was too dark.

Heather supposed that she too should head home. Her parents would be mad at her if she stayed out late. But she _ so _ wanted to use the swings. The other girl had looked so lovely on the swings, all clad in pink and kicking her legs out as she swung high.

Heather reached the swings and was about to sit down on the middle swing - the same swing that _ she _ had used - when she noticed a pink scrunchy on the tarmac ground in front of the swing. She supposed it must have belonged to the girl.

"Hey!" Heather called after her. "You dropped your scrunchy!"

But the girl, already a distant figure at the park gates, didn't hear her, and exited the park without indicating she had heard Heather.

Heather placed the scrunchy on her wrist, before sitting on the swing, thinking about the girl who had just left.

************************************************

After that day, Heather noticed pink scrunchies everywhere. She saw one on the floor of the new 7/11 that had just opened in Sherwood. She saw one lying on top of a table inside a café she sometimes went to. At her first boy-girl party at the end of middle school, she saw a pink scrunchy sitting on top of the bathroom sink. She tried to look for the girl that owned the scrunchy, but she was nowhere to be seen. So she pocketed the pink scrunchy that reminded her of the pretty girl in the park that day.

One day, the summer before high school was going to start, Heather went back to Sherwood Park. In front of the swings, there was a red hair ribbon. Did this hair ribbon belong to the girl who had been playing on the swings that day? Heather didn't know. But she thought that red would really look good on that girl.

On September 1st, 1985, Heather McNamara started her first day of high school. The first day went normally, until lunch time.

Heather didn't know how it started, but there was a large crowd of people excitedly watching two freshmen fight each other. Heather couldn't see anything except for the occasional flashes of gold and red that she was able to view from her position behind her classmates. She craned her head over somebody's shoulder so that she could better catch a glimpse of the fight.

To Heather's surprise, a tall, athletic looking boy was getting beaten to a pulp by a smaller blonde girl. A flash of recognition coursed through Heather - it was the same girl from the park that day!

Heather's classmates cheered the girl on as she finally pinned the boy to the ground, slamming her fist into his face. The girl looked quite battered, but she fought stubbornly, a look of fury on her face. Although the boy had fought well before, now he was at a disadvantage and was scrambling to get away. The girl may very well have knocked a tooth out or broken his nose had it not been for the intervention of a third party.

Heather shoved her way through the crowd (_Watch it!_, she heard a voice say near her as she brushed against someone), and pulled the back of the girl's bright red jacket, hauling her off her opponent. To Heather's surprise, the girl didn't resist being dragged away.

The boy got up angrily and went away with a friend, assumably to the school nurse. Soon afterwards the crowd dispersed, realizing there would be no further violence.

The boy's face had been a bruised mess, but the girl didn't look much better. There was a trail of blood dripping down her lips and her knuckles were scratched from punching the boy.

"Are you okay?" Heather asked.

"You didn't have to break it up," the girl said coldly, glaring at Heather.

Heather looked right at her and raised her eyebrows.

"Are you sure? You would've broken his nose, or worse, if I hadn't stopped you".

"I wish I _ had _ broken his nose. He would have deserved it."

"What did he do to you that made you so angry?" Heather asked.

The dark blonde looked at Heather indignantly.

"I don't want to talk about it".

"I understand," replied Heather, offering her a handkerchief.

The girl took it and started wiping her face with it. "Thanks".

The two girls sat in silence for a while as the red-clad girl cleaned her wounds, until Heather picked something off of the ground and then started touching the blonde's hair.

The girl tensed up, and Heather expected the girl to tell her to stop touching her, but surprisingly she allowed Heather to tie her hair up for her.

"Your hair ribbon fell during the fight".

"I know".

"Red. Just like your jacket".

"Well, red is my favourite colour. The only thing about ribbons though, is that they come undone so easily. I'd rather wear a scrunchy, but all my scrunchies are pink, and they clash horribly with red clothes."

"Can't you just buy a red scrunchy?"

"I've tried! But it seems to be impossible to find a red scruchy in Sherwood. All the scrunchies they seem to sell in this town are hideous colours."

"Oh. I didn't know it was so difficult to find a red scruchy. Well, red looks great on you, scrunchy or not."

"Thanks".

"My name is Heather McNamara," said Heather, extending a hand to the girl.

"And my name is Heather Chandler", said the girl, placing the blood stained handkerchief in her pocket and taking Heather McNamara's hand.

This prompted a laugh from Heather McNamara. "We have the same first name! I guess that means we were meant to be friends then."

Heather Chandler smiled somewhat bashfully at McNamara. She thought of how she had went from fighting people to making friends with ease, all in the space of one lunchtime, and started to laugh softly.

Just then, an angry voice disturbed her laughter. A teacher was making her way over to the two girls. She had come to punish Heather Chandler for her role in the fight.

Heather Chandler felt a sudden pressure on her hand, and glanced down to see that Heather McNamara had taken it. Her new friend was choosing to stand by her even though the figure of the teacher loomed over them.

And even though Heather Chandler knew she would be in trouble, she didn't care.

****************************************************

One week later, Heather Chandler walked into Westerburg High School. Her punishment had been a week's suspension.

She sought out her new friend, Heather McNamara, at the lockers, ignoring all the people who were staring at her.

"Hi Heather."

"Oh! Hi Heather! Welcome back," McNamara greeted her, taking a book out of her locker before turning around.

"Listen ... Thanks for staying with me when Ms Flemming came to punish me."

"Of course I stayed with you. After all, that's what friends do, right?"

Heather McNamara pressed something into Heather Chandler's hand.

"Here. I got you a welcome back present".

Heather Chandler looked at her hand. On top of her palm sat a red scrunchy.


End file.
